Reality's Illusion
by Shadow Rebirth
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death, Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel, no pairings.]
1. Chapter 1: Falling into Existence

Title: Reality's Illusion  
Author: Shadow Rebirth  
Beta Reader: Rukia23  
Rating: T/PG-13  
Warnings: Violence, death, language, and spoilers.  
Chapter WC: 2,921  
Story WC: 2,921  
First Written: February 5, 2009  
Last Edited: February 6, 2009  
Posted: February 6, 2009  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This work has not been endorsed by Kishimoto Masashi, Shueisha, Viz Media, Shōnen Jump, Studio Pierrot, Aniplex, or any of the others holding copyright or license to the Naruto manga, anime, movies, and products. No connection is implied or should be inferred. Other names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Any similarities, without satirical intent, to copyrighted characters, or individuals living or dead, are purely coincidental. This is not a commercial work. The author receives no financial gain from its production or distribution. It is available without charge.  
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel. No pairings.]

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Reality's Illusion

Chapter 1_  
Falling into Existence_

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The sand whipped against his skin, causing a sharp stinging sensation with each impact. His feet sunk into the ground with each step as the sand shifted beneath his weight, forcing him to shift accordingly. Each step was a struggle, a battle against the winds that threatened to throw him back to whence he came.

It took hours for the sandstorm settled down. It left in its wake an unsettling stillness that smothered the land. Dune after dune was all he could see for miles. No movement. No sign of life.

He trudged on regardless.

The sky above was a pure blue, free of clouds. The sun beat down on the land with warmth that seemed to be growing every second and was quickly encroaching on unbearably hot.

It didn't bother him. He was more than used to the desert. And besides, pain was only temporary.

Walking through the desert seemed like a dream to him sometimes. Like his body wasn't really there, only his mind. Or maybe it was the other way around. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been walking. It seemed like it had been an eternity, and maybe it had. In a way he felt as though he'd always been here, slowly making his way through the desert.

But he'd known green lands once. Or at least he thought he had. He could remember lush forests, rough mountains, and clear rivers that rushed into the sea, but those memories were hazy, like a dream. Maybe it _had_ only been a dream. Did such places even exist beyond the boundaries of imagination?

He walked on, paying no attention to the sun as it rose and fell countless times. He never felt exhaustion, though he had a feeling that he should have. He didn't allow his mind to rest on such thoughts for long though. He was too detached.

Detached from this reality.

Or from this dream. He wasn't sure which it was yet.

But even if his mind didn't notice it, his body slowly began wearing down. It happened in slow increments until, without warning, his mind was blanketed with darkness and his body fell limply into the scorching sands.

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Hochu Otsuka had always led a simple life. His parents had been merchants in a large town on the eastern edge of the Land of Wind called Arata. They hadn't been rich and in fact had struggled to stay above poverty for most of their lives.

Otsuka had followed in their footsteps and become a merchant himself after their untimely deaths when he was 20. Fortunately, Arata did a lot of trading with the Land of Fire, so plenty of merchants were needed in the large town. Otsuka made only a meager living, but he was content.

The one aspect of his profession that Otsuka highly disliked was the annual trip he had to make between Arata and Sunagakure in order to record his transactions at the capital. He had never been a very athletic sort of person and age had only made his bones ache all the more, so he never looked forward to the harsh trip. To top it off, Otsuka often had to make the trip alone because he rarely had the money to hire shinobi to escort him along the hidden roads that crisscrossed the Land of Wind.

It was a good thing that no one grew up in the Land of Wind without learning the ways of nature or he'd never be able to make the trek.

On one such trip returning from Sunagakure, Otsuka came across a rather odd sight: A man lying face down in the sand. Otsuka rushed over to his side and breathed out a sigh of relief when he found that the man was alive and apparently unharmed. It looked as though he was only sleeping, although Otsuka had certainly never seen anyone sleep in the _desert_ before, let alone in such a manner.

With a grunt, Otsuka managed to turn the man over so that he was lying on his back. The man was relatively young, the merchant noted; only his in mid twenties. What really struck Otsuka however was the man's blond hair. Blonde wasn't too uncommon in these parts, but he'd never seen anyone with such a shockingly bright yellow coloring before.

Another curious thing about the man was the three parallel scars that lined each of his cheeks. They were faded with age, but still quite distinguishable. Otsuka frowned, wondering how he could have gotten such marks. His clothes were made of a coarse, dark material that he'd seen on shinobi before though, so perhaps that explained it.

With a sigh, Otsuka stooped down and slung the unconscious man's arm around his shoulder and pulled him up. He staggered under the man's bulk—for though the blond was not tall, his frame was lined with wiry muscles—but managed to right himself after a few moments. Then, step by step, he began a halting walk forward.

Otsuka could not just leave the man lying in the desert in good conscience. In fact, it never really occurred to him to leave him behind. As such, he never once complained as the day faded into night and a journey that should have been over hours before dragged on and on.

Finally, just as the stars were coming out, the short, tan colored buildings of Arata came into view. Otsuka smiled in relief. His body was screaming for him to put down his burden; he wasn't used to such strain, especially not for so long.

He didn't stop yet however. He carried the blond haired man straight to the hospital, which fortunately was open 24/7. A nurse helped him ease the unconscious man onto a gurney, took his story and made note of where the man had been found, and then wheeled him away.

Otsuka would wonder for the following weeks just who that man had been, but before long the incident passed from his mind. It didn't matter anyway; he never saw the man again.

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Hatake Kakashi had not been having a good day. Well, week, really, but he didn't want to think that far back.

It was supposed to have been a simple mission—or at least as simple as ANBU missions could get. And indeed it had been simple; just a political mission between Konohagakure and Sunagakure for which he hadn't even brought his ANBU mask, to ensure the strength of their relatively new treaty. It had gone smoothly at first, but had ended with an altercation that had left him with a twisted ankle.

To be honest, his pride had taken a worse blow than his body. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to shinobi, let alone ANBU, and never mind that he'd been a part of ANBU for less than a year. Shinobi were supposed to be graceful warriors, capable of speeding over miles and miles of land without ever once hesitating.

Of course, what they often forgot was that they were human too, with bodies just as fragile and easily damaged as a civilian's.

As such, that afternoon Kakashi found himself in the hospital in a border town called Arata. He'd passed through the small city on his way into the Land of Wind and would have gone straight by it again had it not been for his ankle. Normally he would have ignored a basic injury like this, but he wanted to get back home as soon as possible—it'd been a _simple_ mission, dammit—so he wanted to get some pain medication to hold him over.

Things never went smoothly. Kakashi should have realized this by now. What should have been a basic transaction consisting of money and pain pills ended up with him following a nurse up to the third floor of the hospital as she went to retrieve more medication from a storage closest.

They just _had_ to run out of stock on the bottom floor the day that he stopped by.

Kakashi held back a sigh of exasperation and leaned back against the nearest wall as he watched the nurse disappear into the storage closest. The young ANBU let his gaze rove around the hallway as he waited. After a moment, his eyes fell on a man who was sitting in a chair at the end of the hall, staring out a window.

Though Kakashi spent a few moments staring at the man, he didn't really register in the young ANBU's mind. He was just another patient, probably one who was waiting to be released. A shinobi too, Kakashi thought as his eyes picked up the little signs that accompanied a seasoned warrior.

Then the man's head turns toward him and Kakashi's world froze.

For a moment Kakashi was sure that he was looking at Namikaze Minato, as impossible as it seemed. Then his mind reevaluated that thought as he took note of the whisker-like scars on the blond man's cheeks. But _that_ wasn't possible either. He'd only ever seen those marks on one other person: A little four year old boy back in Konohagakure. What was the chance that there would be two people in the world with the same whisker marks, bright blond hair, and blue eyes that belonged to a man now four years dead?

Zero, Kakashi decided with a narrowing of his eyes.

"Here you go, shinobi-san," the nurse said brightly.

Kakashi tensed momentarily. He'd been so caught up in his study of the Minato/Naruto look-alike that he hadn't even heard her approach. He silently berated himself for the potentially lethal lapse in observation, but didn't take his eyes off the blond, even as he took the bottle in the woman's hand.

"What's his name?" the ANBU casually asked the nurse.

"Hmm?" The woman followed his line of sight to the patient next to the window. "Oh, him? That's Shitsumei."

"'Name unknown'?" Kakashi questioned sharply. "He has amnesia?" His voice was a little harsher than he'd meant and his eyes cut abruptly over to the nurse, but it couldn't be helped.

The nurse nodded, completely oblivious to Kakashi's unease. "Yes," she replied. "A man brought him in three days ago. He'd found him unconscious in the desert. I think the heat must have gotten to him, but," the nurse lowered her voice conspiratorially, "the doctors can't find anything wrong with him! According to them he was perfectly healthy even when he was brought in. They can't find any reason for him to have lost his memory."

The young nurse met Kakashi's eyes and suddenly seemed to realize that she was talking to a shinobi and not one of her coworkers. She flushed and straightened instantly and began tugging at the hem of her smock self-consciously.

"Anyway," the woman said hurriedly, "He's only here because no one's sure of what to do with him yet. No one has reported anyone who looks like him missing. He'll probably be handed over to the police in a few days and they'll figure out what to do from there."

Kakashi attempted to give the woman a smile to calm her nerves, but was pretty sure that he failed miserably. "Thanks for your help," he said and they both glanced down at the bottle in his hand, glad to break the tense atmosphere. "I'll be able to find my way out from here."

The nurse nodded and hurriedly walked back toward the elevator, more than happy to get away. Kakashi watched as she left and then turned his attention back onto the disturbingly familiar blue eyed man.

The man, Shitsumei, glanced up as Kakashi approached despite the ANBU's silent footsteps, reaffirming his suspicion that he might be a shinobi. Kakashi was, however, surprised to notice that the man didn't look the least concerned, even as he stopped beside him. In fact, the man's gaze looked rather...empty...to Kakashi. It was as though the man was looking through him instead of at him. Like he wasn't entirely there.

Kakashi suppressed a shiver and shoved down such absurd thoughts. He stared hard at Shitsumei for several long minutes. The blond never said anything to him or even paid much attention to him. As a matter of fact, after a cursory glance Shitsumei turned back to the window and seemed to ignore his presence completely.

"What's your name?" Kakashi asked finally. It was a question he technically already knew the answer to, but it was the best place to start.

The blond glanced at him once more and this time, didn't turn away. Now that he had those eerie blank eyes on him though, Kakashi wasn't so sure that that was a good thing. He suppressed another shiver and reminded himself that he was a shinobi, an ANBU, no matter how much this man made him feel like a little boy again.

"They call me Shitsumei here," he said finally.

"But that's not your real name, is it?"

A perplexed look flashed across Shitsumei's face, gone as quickly as it had come. "No. It's not."

Kakashi realized that he wasn't going to get anything more than that from Shitsumei. The man was a strange one, to be sure. He continued to stare at Shitsumei, silently debating an idea in his mind. In a few seconds he had come to a decision.

"I used to know someone who looked just like you," the ANBU commented with faux nonchalance. Shitsumei cocked his head to the side, looking like he was really paying attention for the first time in their conversation. Kakashi took that as a good sign and continued. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were twins. Why don't you return with me to my village, Konohagakure? Perhaps I can help you to get your memories back."

"Konohagakure..."

Shitsumei said it as though he was testing out the word. His voice was gravelly as though from lack of use, Kakashi noticed. He tucked away the observation in his head, adding it to the pile of growing questions surrounding this nameless man.

The corner of Shitsumei's mouth quirked upward as though a smile was fighting to break through, but his face fell back into deadpan only moments later. Kakashi could have sworn that he'd seen a spark of life in the man's eyes, if only for an instant.

Shitsumei never actually agreed aloud to go with Kakashi. He didn't need to.

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Konohagakure. The name rolled off Shitsumei's tongue with surprising ease. He repeated it over and over in his mind, marveling at the warm feeling that it brought him, though he didn't know why.

Shitsumei had always felt as though he was looking at the world through a haze. (_But how long was "always"?_) Every now and then however something would stand out with startling clarity against everything else. This silver haired man was one of those things. The young man's face was almost painfully sharp compared to the rest of the world and when he looked at him it was as though the rest of the world faded back into nonexistence.

There was something important about this man tugging at the back of Shitsumei's mind. But Shitsumei wasn't one to dwell on things, so he didn't and the sensation quickly passed.

Shitsumei followed the silver haired man from the hospital without a second thought. It never even occurred to him to stay; he had no reason to. He also leapt from the hospital window and onto the outside rooftops after the man without thinking about it. It felt natural for him to do so, as though he'd done it his entire life.

But he couldn't remember having ever done so before (_There was only the desert, stretching on into eternity_) so he didn't let his thoughts linger on it.

As they left the large town and moved into more and more forested regions, Shitsumei could often feel his companion (_But they hadn't always been teammates, once he'd been only a little boy—but he'd never been a child and had never met this man before_) staring at him. He barely noticed the attention; he was too busy gazing at the forest around them.

He never could have guessed that there were so many trees. Each and every one was different, just as each and every leaf was different. It was fascinating to see.

After a day of traveling at high speeds through the treetops, the silver haired man began to slow. Shitsumei turned to him with a frown, incomprehension written across his face. He couldn't understand why the man had slowed down. He hadn't said anything since they'd left the hospital (_He'd never liked hospitals. Though they tried to cover it up with disinfectants, there'd always been a scent of death lingering around the buildings that made him itch to get out_) so he assumed they weren't at their destination yet.

"Are you alright?" Shitsumei asked (_His voice was rough and raspy and he wondered if there'd ever been a time when it hadn't been_). The other man shot him a confused look, so he expounded: "You're slowing down."

"We've been running for over two days straight without resting," the one-eyed man answered dryly. "I'm bound to get tired." He paused as though realizing something and shot Shitsumei an unreadable look. "Aren't you?"

"Tired?" He would have thought the answer would have been obvious. "Of course not."

The man said nothing else for the rest of the trip and Shitsumei wondered if he'd said something wrong.

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Sunagakure –Hidden in the Sand/Hidden Sand  
Shinobi – ninja  
Konohagakure – Hidden in the Leaves/Hidden Leaf  
Shitsumei – name unknown

A/N: Eh heh, I'm supposed to be working on _Failing Twilight_, I know, but this story just fell into my lap. Literally. I didn't even know what I was writing until I completed the first scene. I had no idea what it was about or even which _character_ it was—my mind kept leaping between Naruto, Cloud (FFVII), and Allen (DGM). Before long however, I started getting a bunch of different ideas for plots and eventually settled on Naruto. And it's just grown from there.

Anyway, I've seen time travel stories done too many ways to count, but I've never seen an idea quite like this before, so it should prove to be interesting. This story won't be my main priority though—Failing Twilight will take precedence among my Naruto works. I'll update this story as often as I can, but only when inspiration strikes me.

Please let me know what you think!

--S.R.

_"You have to accept the past to change the future." - Anonymous_


	2. Chapter 2: True to Life

Title: Reality's Illusion  
Author: Shadow Rebirth  
Beta Reader: Rukia23  
Rating: T/PG-13  
Warnings: Violence, death, language, and spoilers.  
Chapter WC: 4,573  
Story WC: 7,494  
First Written: February 6, 2009  
Last Edited: February 11, 2009  
Posted: February 9, 2009  
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel. No pairings.]

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Reality's Illusion

Chapter 2_  
True to Life_

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Kakashi had to admit that he felt a wave of relief when the gates of Konoha came into view. Traveling with Shitsumei had been an...interesting...experience, to say the least.

The blond haired man had first proved to have shinobi training when he'd easily followed Kakashi from the window of the hospital in Arata. Ever since then he'd been instinctively augmenting his muscles with chakra to keep up with Kakashi, apparently without even noticing that he was doing so.

What was utterly bizarre was that Shitsumei hadn't been worn down at all by the trip, despite his constant use of chakra. He'd even seemed _confused_ when Kakashi had begun to grow tired. Kakashi had never heard of anyone with stamina like that. It seemed so inhuman.

Konohagakure's giant gates were guarded at all times by a set of visible Chuunin who were responsible for supervising and recording everyone passing in and out, as well as a hidden ANBU, who was there in case trouble arose. The two Chuunin guards were relaxing at the gate entrance when Kakashi and Shitsumei landed before them. They smiled in greeting, but their laid-back moods quickly drained away to be replaced with shock.

The two young men gaped openly at Shitsumei. One even began to stutter "Y-yond—" before his companion cut him off with a jab to the ribs. Kakashi ignored them in favor of exchanging a few quick hand signs with the hidden ANBU, briefly explaining the situation. A second later the other ANBU joined their small gathering, startling the Chuunin.

Kakashi turned to Shitsumei. "Go with Tora-san," he said. "I have to talk to the Hokage."

At first, Kakashi wasn't sure if the blond had heard him. Shitsumei was staring off into the village as though the rest of them weren't there. His face was as expressionless as always. Then he silently stepped up to the second ANBU and waited without a word.

Once he was sure Shitsumei wouldn't cause any trouble—though for some reason the concept of the strange, glassy-eyed man causing trouble seemed foreign—Kakashi headed straight for the Hokage Tower. Tora would take Shitsumei to Konoha's Interrogation and Detention Base, where he'd be held until they figured out what was going on.

Kakashi vaulted from a rooftop onto an upper floor entrance to the Hokage Tower. His calloused fingers gripped the wooden ledge tightly and used it as leverage to get inside. From there he swiftly made his way into the depths of the tower. No one stopped him along the way, but he received a few odd looks and not for the first time wished that he'd been allowed to bring his ANBU mask with him on his last mission.

The Sandaime's secretary, a clerical shinobi and undercover ANBU, only briefly stopped Kakashi outside the Hokage's office. Normally, he would have been required to make an appointment, in case the Hokage was in a meeting, but she easily noticed the urgency in his body language and thus let him inside with only a nod.

The Hokage's office hadn't changed much over the years since Konohagakure's founding. That wasn't to say that each Hokage didn't bring a distinctive feel to the office though. Kakashi could fondly remember that the Yondaime had littered the office with empty ramen cups, going through new ones faster than he could pick them up. The Sandaime, on the other hand, had the office blanketed with shelf after shelf filled with scrolls. He wasn't known as "The Professor" for no reason; Sarutobi was arguably the most intelligent person in Konoha.

The first thing that Kakashi noticed upon stepping into the Hokage's office was these scrolls. Then his gaze gravitated beyond the shelves to Sarutobi's desk, which was buried beneath mounds of paperwork. The Hokage himself was diligently working away, pen in hand.

Sarutobi never once glanced up as Kakashi approached, let alone put down his pen. "Kakashi," he greeted distractedly. "Have you checked in with the mission center? Was there a problem?"

"No problem, Hokage-sama." At least not enough of one to mention; the minor altercation would be listed in his mission report. "...But there is something else."

There must have been something in Kakashi's voice because Sarutobi's pen suddenly stopped and he glanced up sharply. After another moment he put the pen down, folded his hands on his desk, and gave the young ANBU his full attention, wordlessly commanding him to speak.

And speak Kakashi did. As professionally as he could, he told Sarutobi about what had happened and how he'd found Shitsumei. Never once did the elder shinobi interrupt or ask a question, despite how utterly preposterous the story sounded.

When Kakashi had finished, the room fell back into silence. Sarutobi's face remained impassive and his gaze was fixed on the far wall of the office. Kakashi followed his line of sight and found himself staring at a framed photograph of the Yondaime Hokage. He was struck once again with just how much Shitsumei resembled him.

"Is there a chance that he's a spy sent to distract us?" Sarutobi finally asked. He sounded surprisingly weary.

"Of course," Kakashi answered instantly. "But I doubt it." At Sarutobi's questioning look, he continued, "He was found unconscious in the desert, in the Land of _Wind_. No one could have known that I'd be at the hospital in Arata, which means that it's nearly impossible for our meeting to be anything other than coincidence. Plus, I was the one to ask him to come to Konohagakure, not the other way around. And besides...It may be gut instinct, but I don't think that he is. You'll have to meet him to understand what I mean.

The Sandaime stayed silent again. Kakashi waited patiently for him to consider the situation. He didn't share his thoughts with the ANBU, but Kakashi had never expected him to.

Hokage was a lonely position, thrust on pedestal above the rest of the world.

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Shitsumei stared thoughtfully at the gray wall of the room he'd been put into. They weren't smooth like he would have expected, but rather riddled with small holes (_It reminded him of the desert; grains within grains, all a part of a larger whole_). He wondered briefly how the walls had been created.

The room consisted of a simple metal frame bed with pristine white sheets, a porcelain toilet, and a metal sink. The room itself was rather small—less than three meters by three meters—but the enclosed space didn't bother Shitsumei, even if the lack of sky was rather disconcerting. He stared at the walls for hours on end, fascinated by the complexities he could find in the stone.

Eventually the door opened and a short haired woman stepped inside. She gave him a brief apologetic smile, though Shitsumei couldn't guess what for.

"We're sorry for having to hold you here Shitsumei-san," she said. The man who'd first brought him here had said something similar, but Shitsumei didn't understand it. A room was a room, after all. "We just have to be cautious; we are a shinobi village, after all."

Shitsumei stared at her wordlessly, wondering why she was there. The woman shifted uncomfortably and diverted her gaze to floor. A frown stretched across the blond's face. A lot of people around here had been doing that, but he couldn't understand why. After a moment, he dismissed the thought as unimportant.

Suddenly, Shitsumei's gaze slid past the woman to the door behind her. He could feel someone else approaching (_Small footsteps echoed through the sewers as he ran and ran. But no matter how fast he went, how hard he pushed himself, it was always chasing him. It was always lurking there, just out of view_) and sure enough moments later the man named Tora entered. Like several others around here he wore a strange white and red (_Splashed with blood that wouldn't wash away no matter how hard he scrubbed_) mask that depicted an animal—a tiger, in this case.

"Shitsumei-san," Tora said politely. The woman quickly scurried back, out of his way. "If you don't mind, we'd like to have a medic-nin check you over and ask you some questions."

Shitsumei met the man's gaze for a moment before turning away to stare at the wall again. Tora faltered, but correctly assumed his silence to be either assent or apathy. With a nod, he turned and strode back out of the room. The woman hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at Shitsumei, before quickly following in his wake.

Unconcerned, Shitsumei continued to stare at the walls.

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Sarutobi Hiruzen had seen many things in his life, but he struggled to remember a stranger situation than the one he was in currently. A man who looked like Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Naruto, combined into one...Such a thing was not possible, but the proof was right before his eyes.

Sarutobi studied Shitsumei with sharp, cautious eyes. The blond haired man was sitting on his bed, staring unemotionally at a wall. He wasn't even blinking.

"He's been like this for the past two days, Hokage-sama," a kunoichi murmured. "He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't even _moved_. It...It's unnatural."

Narrowing his eyes, Sarutobi hummed neutrally. It was indeed bizarre and impossible, as everything surrounding Shitsumei seemed to be. The man didn't _seem_ to be dangerous and didn't _seem_ to be insane—despite his odd actions—but Sarutobi knew perfectly well that appearances were only skin deep. Still...Kakashi had been right; the man just didn't _feel_ like he was a danger to Konoha.

Though few civilians knew it, following gut instincts was actually a major part of their profession. Everything about shinobi and their missions were covered in lies and wrapped in layer after layer of deception. It was a rare day when a shinobi was capable of wading through the "underneath of the underneath" so instead they learned to trust their gut instincts about a situation. Experiences built up these instincts to the point that seasoned shinobi were able to make split second decisions that often turned out to be accurate.

At the moment, Sarutobi could most certainly see what Kakashi had meant about the feeling Shitsumei gave off. The man felt out of place, like he didn't belong in this world, among them. It seemed like such a fanciful thought at first, but the more time Sarutobi spent around him, the stronger the feeling became.

The door to Shitsumei's cell—albeit, one of the nicer cells, since Shitsumei hadn't done anything wrong—was a thick one-way window that allowed people on the outside to see in while those in the inside saw only a mirror. It allowed Sarutobi to observe the blond man without him being any the wiser, although the Sandaime wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if Shitsumei knew that they were there anyway.

"What information have you gotten from him?" Sarutobi asked.

The kunoichi paused for a moment, considering the question. "Not much," she admitted. "We've confirmed that he does indeed have retrograde amnesia. He has no physical trauma that could have caused it, and is in fact the picture of perfect health, but it's entirely possible that it was caused by psychological trauma. Other than that though...Well, he doesn't talk much, no matter what we do. Often he doesn't even acknowledge our presence. We attempted to use Genjutsu on him once, to see how he would react, but..." She hesitated."...Sir, it had no affect on him. He was immune to it and all other Genjutsu we've tried since."

Sarutobi frowned deeply. A riddle, wrapped in amystery, inside an enigma; that's what Shitsumei was. And he doubted they'd find out more any time soon. Unless...

"Contact Yamanaka Ichirou. Tell him I've got a job for him that I think he'll find interesting."

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Most people spend all their time trying to get their lives to run smoothly. It's a worthy goal to be sure, but there's just one problem: What happens when everything in your life _is_ going perfectly?

Boredom. Pure, unadulterated boredom.

Ichirou was well acquainted with such boredom. He'd graduated from the Academy at age ten, made Chuunin by eleven, and was promoted to Jounin on his fifteenth birthday. He was hailed as the "genius of the Yamanaka clan", mainly because he'd long since mastered every Yamanaka jutsu and had developed dozens more. He'd led a very active shinobi career, particularly during the Third Great Shinobi War. He was honored as a war hero and one of the greatest shinobi of his generation.

But that was years ago, before he'd lost a leg in battle due to a careless mistake.

Now Ichirou was retired from his shinobi career and hadn't even been out of the village in what felt like forever. He'd considered settling down and getting married like his younger brother, Inoichi, but that just wasn't his style.

Unfortunately, all of this added up to him being completely and utterly bored. Sure, he occasionally helped out in the Intelligence Department—just because he wasn't on the active shinobi roster didn't mean that he wasn't still a shinobi at heart—but that was only _occasionally_. He worked on developing clan jutsu every now and then, but it didn't take long before that too grew boring.

As such, when Ichirou received a missive from the Hokage, telling him about a job, he practically jumped on the request. In a few minutes, he was down at the Intelligence Headquarters, cursing the prosthetic limb attached to his left knee all the while. He'd never been able to walk like he used to since the accident, let alone jump from rooftop to rooftop like all the other damn shinobi.

Ichirou was escorted to where the Hokage was waiting within the depths of the Interrogation and Detention Base. He was standing outside of one of the cells, staring through the one-way window rather intently.

"Yo, Sarutobi-sama!" Ichirou greeted with a broad smile. "You called?"

Sarutobi tore his gaze from the window and responded with a brief smile. "Ichirou," he murmured. "How have you been?"

"Good, good!" the retired shinobi said. "And you? Still drowning in paperwork and ink?"

"Of course," Sarutobi said with a chuckle.

The Sandaime's gaze drifted back over to the window almost automatically. Curious, Ichirou leaned over and glanced through the glass as well. He was surprised to see a blonde haired man in the cell, sitting on his bed and staring blankly at the wall.

"Is he alright?" Ichirou asked. "He looks a little cuckoo."

Sarutobi's face didn't crack into a smile at the comment, which was surprising because Ichirou could usually get the older man to laugh. The Yamanaka's face fell a little bit as he realized just how serious this situation was. He turned his attention back onto the detainee and really looked at him this time.

A second later he let out a low whistle. "Well I'll be damned. Is there any particular reason why you're keeping the supposedly dead Yondaime Hokage locked up?"

This time he did get a quiet snort out of Sarutobi. "Hardly," the Hokage said dryly. "No matter how much he looks like him..." He sighed. "This is Shitsumei."

Ichirou cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he questioned. "Wow, his parents must have really hated him, to give him a name like that."

Sarutobi's lips only quirked upwards briefly this time. "He has amnesia," he explained. "No memory of who he is or where he comes from. But there are also some...odd...things about him. He's impervious to Genjutsu for example."

Ichirou couldn't help it: His jaw dropped. He struggled to find something to say in reply to that—_impossible_ was a good start—but the words died in his mouth when he happened to glance back into the cell. The man, Shitsumei, was staring at him. Through the one-way glass that should have appeared to be only a mirror to him. _Directly_ into Ichirou's eyes.

With an audible click, Ichirou's mouth snapped closed. He turned back to Sarutobi, all of his previous playfulness gone.

"What do you want me to do?"

Sarutobi smiled again, but this time he looked infinitely sad. "I want you to do exactly what it is that you do best."

Wordlessly, Ichirou nodded. He turned back towards the cell door and let himself inside. Shitsumei was still staring at him the whole time with those eerie blue eyes of his. He had whisker-like scars on his cheeks, Ichirou noticed now. Curious.

"Shitsumei-san?" Ichirou enquired. The man tilted his head to the side, but didn't answer. "I'm Yamanaka Ichirou. Do ya mind if I take a look at your head? I'd like to see if I can retrieve your lost memories."

Was it just him or were Shitsumei's eyes glowing? Ichirou repressed the urge to flinch. How could one man be so unnerving?

"Memories?" Shitsumei repeated after a moment. His voice was hoarse, as though he was recovering from a bad cold. "You can...read my mind?"

"Eh, not quite," the retired shinobi replied. "Thoughts and memories aren't physical things, so they can't be 'read'. Instead, what my jutsu will do is increase the firing capacity of the neurons in your brain, allowing you to potentially retrieve the memories that you've lost. It _should_ work since your mind hasn't taken any physical damage, but there's no guarantee that it will. But there's also no harm in trying, ne?"

Shitsumei continued to stare at him without blinking. Ichirou was usually pretty good at reading people's body language—it was practically a requirement of being a part of the Yamanaka clan—but Shitsumei was like a blank slate to him. The man didn't reveal _anything_ about what he was thinking.

"...Is that a yes?" Ichirou ventured after several minutes of silence. "You've got to answer for me to know, ya know. I'm only _technically_ a mind reader, not literally."

Finally Shitsumei blinked. Then he shrugged and averted his gaze back onto the cell wall. "Do what you like."

"...Right," the Yamanaka said slowly. He shot a glance over to the cell door, knowing that Sarutobi was watching, before sighing and sitting on the bed in front of Shitsumei. "Just relax, 'kay? This will only take a second."

Ichirou began to flash through seals at a faster rate than most people's eyes could follow. A few moments later he settled on the final seal and closed his eyes, waiting to feel the jutsu work—

—Only to gasp when a jolt of chakra ran through him. Ichirou's eyes instantly snapped open and what he saw was completely impossible.

Gone was the small detention cell with its gray walls and simple furnishings. Instead he was standing in the middle of a desert. The sand stretched for as far as he could see and there was a warm wind whipping through the air. Ichirou gaped openly, wondering what the hell had happened and where he was.

Shitsumei was there in the desert too, standing about five feet from Ichirou. The blue eyed man was staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes.

"Shitsumei?" Ichirou said. His voice wavered slightly, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "W-what— Where are we?"

Shifting slightly in the sand, Shitsumei glanced over at him and Ichirou saw that his gaze was intent for the first time since he'd met him. His blue eyes really _did_ look like they were glowing this time, but that might have just been the reflection of the sun.

"My mind, I believe," Shitsumei murmured. He frowned—the first real expression he'd given that Ichirou had seen—and glanced around them. "But...Not."

"That's not possible," Ichirou protested.

Turning back to him, Shitsumei raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that made Ichirou cringe and feel like a child who'd asked a silly question. The Yamanaka wondered how someone with such a young face could have eyes that looked so ancient.

Ichirou looked away from the blond haired man in an attempt to break the suddenly tense atmosphere. Then his breath caught in his throat as he finally looked up at the sky above them: It was fractured, as though it wasn't a sky at all, but instead a glass mural that had been broken.

"You should go," Shitsumei said suddenly. "This isn't a place for someone like you."

Ichirou didn't even have a chance to wonder what those words meant before he suddenly felt another jolt of chakra. The world around him spun, melting, and then he opened his eyes to the detention cell once more.

With a gasp, Ichirou jerked backwards. He nearly tumbled off the bed and only his shinobi training stopped him from losing face. Warily, he looked over at Shitsumei, but the man was only watching him curiously. Ichirou decided it'd be best to leave and in only a few seconds was once again standing with the Hokage, outside of the cell.

"What happened?" Sarutobi demanded.

"I—I'm not sure," Ichirou said. He stared through the glass at the motionless Shitsumei. "The jutsu...It pulled me into his mind."

Sarutobi frowned. "Into his mind? That shouldn't be possible; the mind has no physical projection—"

"I know!" Ichirou cried. Then he flinched. "Forgive me, Hokage-sama. It's just...I don't know how it's possible, but it _was_ his mind. It's a good thing that it happened, I suppose, _because_ it did give him a glimpse of his mind. He definitely has amnesia—there's no faking what I saw. The thing is, I think his mind is...broken. Something happened to him, most likely the same thing that caused his amnesia, but I have no idea what it could be."

The Sandaime hummed thoughtfully. "I must admit that I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to do with him," he commented. "I don't—"

"Hokage-sama!" a kunoichi called as she came running down the hallway. She skidded to a stop in front of front of Sarutobi and Ichirou. Her eyes were wide and her face was slightly flushed.

"Yes?" Sarutobi asked with concern clear in his voice.

The woman thrust a paper towards Sarutobi. Confused, he took it. "The results of the test you requested just came back," she explained quickly. "Sir, Shitsumei, he— His DNA is an identical match with Uzumaki Naruto!"

Sarutobi looked up sharply, disbelief written across his features. "Impossible," he muttered. He glanced back down at the paper in his hands to double-check the truth of the kunoichi's words.

Ichirou, meanwhile, snorted. "That word seems to pop up a lot recently," he said dryly. "I don't think it quite matters anymore, when it comes to Shitsumei."

The Sandaime Hokage didn't reply. He continued to stare at the paper, feeling numb.

_Impossible..._

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Shitsumei knew that someone was approaching his room long before they ever opened the door. It was always that way. Their energy called out to him so strongly that if he wanted to, he could even close his eyes and pinpoint where everyone in the building was. Sure enough, only a few moments later the door opened and a man wearing one of those ANBU masks walked in.

"Shitsumei-san, the Hokage would like to speak with you. Please follow me," he said.

The blond perked up almost instantly. He had to admit that he was curious to speak to this "Sandaime" that he'd heard so much about. He silently stood and walked over to the door. He paused in front of the ANBU and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, waiting. Normally he'd be able to find someone on his own by seeking out the unique feel of their chakra, but he'd never met the Hokage before, so he needed a guide.

(_There were just some things he had to do for himself, no matter how many times they told him it was a suicide mission._)

The ANBU hesitated for a moment before leading Shitsumei out of the room. Though the masked man's body language gave nothing away, the blond could tell that he was a bit nervous, or perhaps just uncomfortable. He briefly wondered why before dismissing the thought. Everyone around here seemed to act like that, even that odd, pale haired man who'd visited earlier.

Shitsumei was led through twisting hallways, past numerous doors. They saw only one person along the way, who, oddly enough, had stopped to stare at them as they'd passed. Eventually the ANBU stopped before a solid metal door and took up a sentry position against the wall. Shitsumei didn't even glance at him as he proceeded inside.

The room was rather Spartan in design, even more so than the room that Shitsumei had been in since he'd arrived. It consisted of only a wooden table and three chairs, two of which were occupied by Ichirou, the pale haired man from earlier, and a wizened old man wearing a white and red robe and a square hat.

The elderly man stood as Shitsumei stepped inside, a small smile on his face. "Hello, Shitsumei-san," he greeted. "Please, have a seat. We have a long discussion ahead of us."

As he walked over to the empty chair across from the robed man and Ichirou, he let his hand run across the top of the wood. There were intricate carvings all along the backrest. As his fingers moved across each groove, he found him himself following a pattern that shouldn't have existed in mere decoration. (_The seals spread out over the walls, painting them black. He stumbled back, horrified, but already everything was unraveling and he knew he wouldn't be able to reach her time—_)

"Chakra suppression seals," the older man said upon seeing what Shitsumei was looking at. "Don't worry; they won't activate unless an outside source applies chakra to them."

Shitsumei nodded immediately. He never bothered to realize that he instantly trusted the man's words.

"I am Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandaime Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato. You already know Ichirou," the older man said with a nod towards the pale haired shinobi. Ichirou grinned and waved, but didn't shift his slumped position. "I'll be straight with you: You're an enigma to us. As of yet, we don't know the cause of your amnesia, let alone how to restore your memories. So, for the time being we will just have to keep you under supervision in the village. If you have no objection to it, you'll room with Ichirou."

"I'm a good roommate," Ichirou put in cheerfully, "And I've got a big house all to myself. So long as you ignore my limping, we should get along just fine."

"...You just want me to...live here?" Shitsumei rasped.

Sarutobi nodded. "We have no reason to keep you locked up here, but if you leave the village you may find people questioning your...unique...appearance. So instead I simply suggest that you stay within the village for now. Your living expenses will be paid for if, in return, you allow us to...Well, to help you regain your memories.

"And what can you gain from my memories?"

"We don't know the answer to that quite yet," Sarutobi said evasively, "But we're hoping to find out soon enough. We believe that there are a few things that we can learn from your...mystery. Regardless, do we have an agreement?"

For the first time a smile flashed across Shitsumei's face. He bowed to Sarutobi as well as he could in his seat.

"It is agreed, Hokage-sama."

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Tora – tiger  
Kunoichi – female ninja  
Konohagakure no Sato – Village Hidden in the Leaves/Hidden Leaf Village

A/N: Naruto/Shitsumei's character is a lot of fun to write, mainly because he's so different. He's both apathetic and fascinated with everything around him. Ichirou too should prove to be interesting.

For those of you who are curious, I do already have most of the plot for this story planned out, including how/why Naruto got sent the past. Though that bit of information won't be revealed for a while yet, I will say that it's quite unique; it has nothing to do with a jutsu, seals, Kyuubi using its chakra to send him back, the intervention of a god, or even Naruto's death. Like I said, unique. On a similar note, in this story Naruto (young and old) is the only person with a "mindscape". This, too, won't be explained for a while yet.

About the "gut instinct" thing that's mention in this chapter: I truly believe that, realistically, this would be a major part of being a shinobi. The profession is all about lies, for the most part, so no matter how much information they have, shinobi will never know for sure whether something—be it a mission, person, piece of information, etc.—is correct. As such it would make sense that they would _have_ rely on instinct, even if that instinct is based on experience.

Oh, and in case it wasn't clear, Naruto/Shitsumei _does_ look like he's about the same age as the Yondaime was when he died—mid-twenties, that is. His exact age is, obviously, unknown.

--S.R.

_"Memory isn't like reading a book; it's more like writing a book from fragmentary notes." – John F. Kihlstrom_


	3. Chapter 3: Drowning in Rapture

Title: Reality's Illusion  
Author: Shadow Rebirth  
Beta Reader: Rukia23  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Violence, death, language, and spoilers.  
Chapter WC: 4,548  
Story WC: 12,042  
First Written: February 9, 2009  
Last Edited: April 29, 2009  
Posted: March 29, 2009  
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel. No pairings.]

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Reality's Illusion

Chapter 3_  
Drowning in Rapture_

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Ichirou had never believed in ghosts. Even as a child, he'd never been taken in by the horror stories that the older kids would sometimes tell. As he'd grown and learned about all that chakra could accomplish, his beliefs had only been solidified. After all, who needed ghosts when any human could walk through a wall with the right transportation jutsu?

But Ichirou was pretty sure that living with Shitsumei was as close to living with a ghost as one could get.

Shitsumei would wander around the house at odd hours, taking everything in as if memorizing every last detail. One day, he'd spend hours and hours staring at a picture in the hall, the next day he'd spent staring at a shogi board, running his fingers over all the pieces but never actually playing with them. Sometimes Ichirou wandered if this was what it was like to live with a child—albeit, a very silent and unnerving child.

The blond haired man did actually talk to Ichirou, thank Kami, but only when the man felt like there was something that needed to be said. If he felt that something didn't require a reply, then he simply wouldn't respond.

To make the situation even stranger, Shitsumei never slept and never ate. When Ichirou had asked him about it once, Shitsumei had just given him a strange look and said that he didn't sleep because he wasn't tired and didn't eat because he wasn't hungry, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was bizarre and unexplainable, but Ichirou grew used to it soon enough.

It was impossible not to get used to Shitsumei's oddities, not with the blond's blasé attitude about everything.

As such, Ichirou barely even blinked when one morning he walked into his kitchen to find Shitsumei sitting on the ceiling, hanging upside down. He calmly began to make himself breakfast—cereal, that day—and a cup of coffee. Once he was sitting down and munching away, he stared thoughtfully up at Shitsumei. The blonde had begun to trace the grains of the wood with his finger.

"What are you doing?" Ichirou finally asked a few minutes later.

Shitsumei tilted his head back briefly so that he could see Ichirou beyond his freely hanging hair. "Looking at the grains," he murmured. "They remind me of the desert."

Ichirou snorted and ate another spoonful of cereal. "You relate _everything_ to the desert," he commented around his food.

"Everything is relatable to everything else."

"Bah! If that's true, then don't relate it to the desert. Relate it to...a spoon!" Ichirou demanded, holding his utensil up.

Shitsumei didn't even open his mouth to reply. Just moments before, his head had snapped up to the doorway and his gaze was now glued there with unrelenting attention. Ichirou hesitated and slowly dropped his arm.

No sooner had he done so than the ring of the doorbell echoed through the house. Ichirou sighed silently. Though it was a bit unnerving, this wasn't the first time that Shitsumei had proven himself to be highly perceptive to sensing chakra. It was like the man had constant radar out for anything and anyone in the vicinity.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ichirou hollered when the doorbell rang again. He ran a hand through his shoulder length pale hair and sighed as he got up. "Damn nosy ANBU, stopping by at all hours of the day. 'Hokage's orders' my ass; they're just curious—"

Ichirou grumbling cut off abruptly the moment he opened the door. Standing outside was not an ANBU as he'd expected, but instead another pale haired man a few years his junior and a little four year old girl in a purple dress.

"Eh?" Ichirou said as he blinked in surprise. A smile suddenly bloomed on his face. "Inoichi! What're you doing here? I thought you were still out on a mission!"

Inoichi returned his older brother's smile. "I just got back yesterday," he replied. "Ino-chan wanted to visit, so I thought we'd stop by."

"Ah, yes, Ino-chan!" Ichirou said brightly. He knelt down and lifted the giggling girl into his arms while inviting Inoichi inside with a jerk of his head. "You've grown so much! You're going to be as tall as me one day, ne?"

"Taller!" Ino declared loudly.

Chuckling, Ichirou set Ino down on a couch and turned back to Inoichi. "How did things go?" he asked. "Your wife mentioned that—"

"Ichirou-ji-san? Why is there a man sitting on your ceiling?" Ino suddenly asked. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, peering inside curiously.

Inoichi tensed instantly, but Ichirou quickly signaled to him that it was okay. "Ah, that's a friend of mine, Ino-chan," he replied. "He's staying with me for a little while."

"Why?" Inoichi muttered, too quiet for his daughter to hear. "What's going on?"

"Sorry, but that's classified!"

Inoichi gave him a flat look. "I'm a part of the Intel Department, Ichirou," he pointed out dryly.

Ichirou's smile never faltered. "Which means that while you have clearance to know, I'm not allowed to tell you. You'll have to go down to Headquarters to find out what's going on."

With a deep frown, Inoichi glanced back and forth between the kitchen and his elder brother. Ichirou had no doubt that that he'd already sensed that there was something important going on; within their family, Inoichi's intuition was second to none. He could only hope that Inoichi didn't dig too deeply into things that the Hokage didn't want to reveal.

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Within the first day, Shitsumei found Ichirou's house to be odd. It was a large, two story building on the eastern side of Konoha that was surrounded by thick foliage on all sides. It was filled with furniture and items of all kinds, but somehow it felt...empty. Shitsumei didn't understand how Ichirou could live in the house all on his own.

In order to attempt to figure out what it was that Ichirou liked about the building, he took to exploring it everyday. It had character, he had to admit. There were so many little details that made it unique, from the lopsided doorway that led into a closet on the first floor, to the missing tile in the corner of the upstairs bathroom.

What really caught Shitsumei's eye though were the pictures in the house. They contained so many people, many of whom looked much like Ichirou. (_It was a testament to humans' blind perception that they'd never noticed the resemblance before. But now every time he looked in the mirror, he could see _him_ staring back at him and he couldn't help but wonder what _he_ would have seen in him_) Shitsumei couldn't help but wonder why Ichirou didn't live with any of these people. Surely they were his family, so why...?

After a few weeks, Shitsumei realized that no one ever came to visit Ichirou. No friends, no family. It just didn't make any sense to the blond. Why was someone as open and friendly as Ichirou always alone? (_It was the loneliness that always hurt the most. Whenever someone turned away or looked through him like he wasn't there—wasn't worth the effort—it was like another twist of the knife in his heart. Just for once he wanted someone to look him in the eye and see—_)

Of course, there _were_ always two people around the house, but they didn't count. Shitsumei knew without having to look that they were those masked men—ANBU. They never revealed themselves, never spoke, but they were there just the same. It wasn't always the same people either—the chakra signatures changed once a day—but no matter what, there were always two of them there, watching.

He'd wondered if he should have felt unnerved by their presence, but instead it felt...comforting to know that they were there. (_Sometimes it seems like you have a guardian angel watching over you, she'd said. He'd only smiled humorlessly in reply and told her that it was no angel._)

It didn't take Shitsumei very long to realize that his perception of time was severely skewed. Sometimes moments would seem to stretch on into eternity while at other times whole hours would pass by in an instant. It was only because of the rising and setting of the sun that the blond was even aware of this fact.

Ichirou didn't seem to notice this and Shitsumei certainly never brought it up. It didn't really matter anyway; it had no real effect on his life. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something wondered why it was happening.

After an eternity of living with Ichirou (_Or an instant. They were the same thing, just like a drop of water that fell with the weight of a tsunami_) they were visited by two new people: Ichirou's first real visitors. Shitsumei felt his interest peaked by their presence. Who were they and why had they come?

Not long after Ichirou had answered the door, Shitsumei found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes that belonged to a small girl with pale blond hair (_The quickly drying blood made it look almost white, he noticed. The contrast was disgusting in its beauty and suddenly he was glad that he'd never seen her wear red before_). She stared at him with wide curious eyes that could only belong to a child.

"Ichirou-ji-san? Why is there a man sitting on your ceiling?"

Ji-san? Abruptly the similarities between Ichirou and the girl became startlingly clear. Family, he realized. He had an ashen taste in his mouth and suddenly he wondered why "family" was such a bad thing.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Shitsumei dropped from the wooden ceiling and landed in a crouch on the floor. The little girl never flinched, just continued to study him curiously. (_He'd never been good with kids. He just didn't know how to act around them, not even—_)

"You're so...big," the girl said finally.

Ichirou laughed from his spot in the doorway. "I'm taller than him, Ino-chan," he pointed out. "Does that make me 'big' too?"

The little girl immediately shook her head. "No, not _that_ kind of big," she said. Her brow was furrowed and she looked frustrated. "He's—He's..._big_."

(_They always said that children were more sensitive than adults, but it would be years before he knew what that meant; years before he understood that the other children didn't ignore him because their parents were wary of him, but because they _knew_ that he was different from them_)

Ichirou frowned and exchanged a glance with the man next to him, clearly not knowing what to make of the statement. The other man looked almost exactly like Ichirou, only with longer hair and more scars. They were probably brothers, Shitsumei thought. (_As close as brothers, he thought bitterly. That should have been the first warning sign. In the end, family always seemed to betray family, especially when it came to _him)

"What are you doing here, Oji-san?" the girl asked abruptly.

Shitsumei blinked owlishly and cocked his head to the side. "I'm not sure," he replied with a thoughtful sound.

All of a sudden, Ino smiled brightly. "Will you play with me?" she asked with childish innocence. "Ichirou-ji-san usually tells me stories when we come."

"I don't know any stories."

"You can make one up!"

Shitsumei glanced up at Ichirou, feeling awkward, but the older man was just grinning at him. Glancing back down at the little girl, he shrugged. "I'm not very good at making them up either."

Ino pouted, but after a moment she brightened back up again. Instantly, she latched onto Shitsumei's hand and began pulling him out of the room.

"Then you can read me one of Ichirou-ji-san's!"

Shitsumei flinched at the contact. Not from fear, but from...What? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that her hand was too small and too warm. (_Not like it was supposed to be. Nothing was like it was supposed to be._)

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Shitsumei was without a doubt the most interesting person that Ichirou had ever met or ever would meet. The man was a walking contradiction, with eyes that belonged to a sage and a curiosity that belonged to an infant. That his existence itself was an impossibility only added to the mix.

After more than a month of living with the blue eyed man, Sarutobi finally called Ichirou in for a meeting. The Yamanaka was faintly surprised to find that he had no problem leaving Shitsumei alone at home, but chalked it up to the knowledge that there were ANBU watching him.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?" Ichirou asked as he stood inside the Hokage's office.

Sarutobi offered him a wan smile. The elderly man was standing behind his desk, staring out at Konoha through the open windows that lined the back wall.

"So serious, Ichirou? It isn't like you."

"...We're involved in serious business, Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi sighed heavily. "Indeed we are," he murmured. Finally turning away from the view of his Village, he took a seat at his desk. "I'll cut to the chase then: What else have you found out about Shitsumei?"

"Anything that I've found out your ANBU have probably already reported to you," Ichirou said dryly.

"Indeed," Sarutobi chuckled. "But your perspective is different than theirs; you live with him, while they observe from the outside. So please, tell me what you think."

"...I honestly don't know what to think about him," Ichirou said slowly. "Every time I think I've figured him out, he does something that leaves me utterly confused. One moment he seems so serious, so jaded, and then the next he's innocently asking what marshmallows are made of. It's, it's— Well, I just don't know what to make of it."

The Hokage nodded slowly. Silence pervaded the office as the older shinobi lit up his pipe and began to smoke. Ichirou resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose; smoke always made him want to gag.

"I think...I think it's time to let Shitsumei out into the village," Sarutobi said finally. "Show him around; I'd like to see his reaction to Konoha. And besides, it's cruel and unusual punishment to keep someone locked up in a house for months on end."

"...What about his appearance?" the Yamanaka asked. "People will start to question—"

"He'll wear a mask. I agree that he definitely shouldn't show his face to the public."

Ichirou nodded slowly. "I agree, sir. And I think that Shitsumei would like to get out; I often see him staring out the window and my house doesn't exactly have a good view of the village. I...I have to ask though: Why have you waited this long to let him go out?"

"There's always a chance that he is spy," was the grave reply. "But it's becoming less and less likely with each new bit of information that we find out about him. Normally, an amnesiac patient has holes in their memories, but not their knowledge. Shitsumei's mind, however, seems to be all over the place. It's decidedly odd." Sarutobi sighed. "You know, I had a Hyuuga take a look at him the other day, to see if there was anything...off about this chakra."

"The Kyuubi."

Sarutobi nodded. "The Hyuuga, he...He's in the hospital right now with retina damage—nothing permanent, fortunately," he told him. "He said that Shitsumei looked like a miniature sun, literally glowing with chakra. It was all human chakra, though. Shitsumei has no connection to the Kyuubi like Naruto does."

Ichirou honestly didn't know what to say to that. What _could_ he say? "I...I'm both shocked and unsurprised by that, I suppose."

The older shinobi smiled in agreement. "Yes, that's how we all feel," he murmured. "I had hoped that taking a look at Shitsumei's chakra would shed some light on the mystery surrounding him, but instead it's only left us with more questions."

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"Out?" Shitsumei repeated. He honestly hadn't even considered it. Ichirou's house was his world now—it was the only thing he knew, day in and day out.

"Yep!" Ichirou replied cheerfully. "You'll have to wear this though, to hide your appearance."

Shitsumei stared at the porcelain mask in the man's hands. It was similar to the ones that ANBU wore, except that it was a simple oval shape, instead of depicting an animal (_It only took him an instant to realize that the hunter-nin was the same boy from the clearing. He should have felt betrayed, but instead there was only an infinite sadness_._ "If we'd met under different circumstances, we might've become friends._"). The designs on it were blue instead of red which Shitsumei found fitting, though for the life of him he didn't know why.

"You keep mentioning my appearance," Shitsumei said suddenly. "Why?"

Ichirou hesitated, looking torn. "You..." he began, only to stop and sigh, "You look almost exactly like the Yondaime Hokage of our village, who died four years ago. The only difference between the two of you is those scars on your face. And...Well, there's someone else in the village who has scars just like that. A person who just happens to be connected to the Yondaime Hokage."

Shitsumei silently took this information in. He looked like the Yondaime Hokage? That was...curious. (_Blue like the sky, she said. Blue like the water in the depths of a well, he said._)

Without another word, Shitsumei took the proffered mask and slid it into place, covering his face. It felt surprisingly comfortable, familiar even.

Over the next hour, Ichirou took him out into Konoha and led him around the village. He pointed out various landmarks and shops and Shitsumei took it all in with a fascination that surprised even himself. He couldn't understand why the village mattered, but it did.

"And that's the Hokage Monument," Ichirou said softly. He gestured to the massive cliff face overlooking the village with a sweeping hand motion. "Those are the previous leaders of the village: Senju Hashirama, Senju Tobirama, Sarutobi Hiruzen, and Namikaze Minato."

Shitsumei made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat as he stared as the stone faces. All of them were littered with deep gashes in some places and smoothed down by the wind on others.

Worn from time.

(_He cursed aloud as the scroll slipped from his hand. He was too worn down from the fight and he knew he was losing blood much too quickly, but he _had _to get there in time or else risk loosing it all—_)

The blond haired man frowned suddenly as he stared at the monument. He couldn't help but feel as though there was something wrong. Or missing maybe.

"...Isn't there a fifth head?" he murmured after a moment.

Ichirou threw him a strange look. "A fifth?" he repeated. "No, not yet. We haven't had a Godaime Hokage yet."

(_He gritted his teeth as she took another swig from the sake bottle. She was starting to drink herself to death, he knew it. They'd tried to get her to stop, but everyone—not just her—were beginning to crumble from the stress. It felt like the village was coming apart at the seams._)

Shitsumei nodded slowly, but his frown only deepened. After a moment, he looked away from the Hokage Monument, unable to deal with the strange feeling of utter _wrongness_ that it evoked in him. When he turned back to Ichirou, the older man was staring at him with an unreadable expression, so he met him stare for stare until Ichirou finally shifted uncomfortably and tore his gaze away.

"Uh, well, why don't we get some lunch?" Ichirou said. "I know you never eat, but I'm starving."

Without bothering to wait for a reply that he already knew wasn't coming, Ichirou began to lead the way through the village. Shitsumei began to follow him, but then he froze suddenly and looked around with wide eyes. The hairs of the back of his neck were standing on end and his skin was covered in goosebumps.

(_Spinning blood red eyes glared down at him, promising pain, promising death, promising the destruction of everything he'd worked so damn hard_ _for and there was _nothing_ he could do—_)

Despite the feeling, Shitsumei couldn't find the cause of his sudden alarm. The closest people to him were a woman and a little four year old boy, neither of whom he could sense as being dangerous. But his instincts were still screaming at him.

Slowly, the blue eyed man turned and walked over to the woman and child. Each step seemed to take an eternity and collided with the ground with the force of an earthquake. The sky above him was swallowed by the sun and the ground seemed to be writhing as though alive—

—And then he blinked and he was standing in front of the little boy. The woman was frowning fiercely and gripping her son tightly. The child, on the other hand, was looking up at him with curious eyes that were as black as empty, bottomless pits that were just waiting to swallow him up.

"Can I help you, shinobi-san?" the woman asked sharply.

Shitsumei shook his head to dislodge the strange thoughts that had been invading his mind. He was never a very poetic person, so it didn't make any sense for his thoughts to take such a direction now. But then, it didn't make sense for a little boy to cause him to feel such—_angerfrustrationfearsadnessbetrayalrage_—alarm either.

"Shitsumei? What the hell are you doing?" Ichirou called as he jogged over to them.

The blond didn't even spare him a glance, nor did he notice how the woman's grip on her son tightened even further (_Sometimes he wondered what it was like to have parents. Then he remembered that his team was like his family. Or at least they had been until everything went to hell and Sas—_).

"Who are you?" Shitsumei blinked. He hadn't meant to ask anything; it'd passed from his lips without him consciously thinking of it.

The woman opened her mouth, only to pause suddenly as she realized that the question hadn't been directed at her. The little boy in question however just smiled innocently, revealing several missing teeth.

"I'm Sasuke!" he replied cheerfully.

"Shitsumei," Ichirou hissed. He tossed an apologetic glance at the woman. "Come on, _please_,"

Shitsumei stepped back suddenly and ripped his gaze from the little boy. Without another word he turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"What the— Er, sorry, Ma'am. Shitsumei! Hold on!"

He ignored Ichirou and continued to walk, silently refusing to answer any questions thrown his way. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what had just happened. Something about the child set him on edge.

"Shitsumei!" Ichirou repeated as he finally caught up to the blond haired man. "What the fuck was that about? You really freaked that poor woman out."

He didn't reply. He didn't even glance at Ichirou, but instead stared stonily ahead. Ichirou sighed, frustrated, but dropped the subject.

(_Sometimes he wondered if it was a good thing that he never opened up to his friends. He was boisterous enough that they never noticed—never asked anything at all. He was fine with it, at first, but then one day he realized that even _she_ didn't know that he enjoyed gardening_).

"Fine," the older man grunted. "Let's just go. The place I was talking about is right over there."

Shitsumei watched, half brooding, half curious, as Ichirou lead him to a small, colorful ramen stand. _Ichiraku Ramen Bar_ was spelled clearly across the top. (_He sat with a wizened shinobi in a white hat—A laughing teacher with a scar across his nose—A silver haired man with a single eye—An older man with red tattoos on his face—_) For some, bizarre reason Shitsumei's mouth began to water. He still wasn't hungry, but the very thought of ramen seemed so...appetizing.

Inside the small ramen bar was a counter lined with stools. Even though it was the middle of the day, there was no one else there at the moment. Ichirou took a seat at the counter and signaled the shop owner.

"One beef ramen, please!" the long haired man chirped.

"...And one miso," Shitsumei added grudgingly. He just couldn't help it.

Instantly, Ichirou's head snapped around to stare at his companion in shock. "_What_?" he all but demanded. "You—you honestly want to eat?"

Shitsumei shrugged, not bothering to offer his thoughts on the matter. Ichirou looked almost disturbed at the sudden change in him, but before he could even open his mouth to question it, they were joined by two more people in the ramen shop: an older man and a little boy.

(_Death was a part of being a shinobi, he knew, but that didn't make it any easier. No one had expected such a legendary, powerful figure to be killed. But then, no one had expected the invasion either._)

It only took Shitsumei's mind a brief second to recognize the man as Sarutobi, but by then his eyes were already glued to the child at the Hokage's side. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end for the second time that day, but he didn't feel alarm like he had with that boy, Sasuke. Instead he just felt as though the rest of the world had melted away, leaving only the smiling face of a blue eyed, blond haired little boy behind.

The boy seemed to be similarly entranced. The moment he stepped into the ramen bar, he'd released Sarutobi's hand and begun to walk towards Shitsumei. The elder blond slipped off his stool as the child approached and crouched down on the balls of his feet. When the little boy had finally stopped before him, his small, chubby hands reached up and ran over the smooth contours of Shitsumei's mask.

Shitsumei breathed in and out slowly. He found himself in awe of this child, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Or, rather, he wouldn't be able to figure it out had he had even the slightest urge to, which he didn't. At this moment however, he didn't even notice Sarutobi and Ichirou, who were watching the proceedings with sharp eyes, let alone the ramen bar owner, who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot behind the counter.

Finally, the little boy's fingers grasped the edges of the white and blue mask covering Shitsumei's face. No one made a move to stop him as he slowly pulled it away, revealing a face that almost perfectly mirrored the boy's own visage, though it was sharp and hard, instead of round with baby fat. The boy smiled delightedly and his small fingers now traced the six scars on Shitsumei's face—scars that he, too, was marked with.

Meanwhile, Shitsumei was almost entirely unaware of the boy's actions. He was too caught up in the child's blue eyes. _Too blue_, his mind whispered. Too young, too happy, too naive, too carefree. Too blue.

(_Blue like the sky, she said. Blue like the water in the depths of a well, he said._)

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Kami – God  
Oji-san/Ji-san – Uncle  
Kyuubi – Nine tails

A/N: I realize it's not very clear whether Shitsumei is aware of the "flashbacks" that he has periodically, so let me explain: Shitsumei _is_ aware of them when they happen, but they almost instantly slip from his mind. If asked to repeat one of them even just a few seconds later, he wouldn't be able to remember. So, basically, little things set his memory off, but he's unable to retain those memories.

I'm honestly not sure where the scene with Sasuke came from. I had the bits with Ino and Naruto planned, but...Well, even when I first started writing the scene it was originally going to be Itachi. Then I realized that Itachi was most likely already an ANBU at this point—or at least a high-level shinobi—so I changed it to Sasuke. It works better with him anyway, because of everything that he and Naruto have gone through.

--S.R.

_"Consider, friend, as you pass by, as you are now, so once was I. As I am now, you too shall be. Prepare, therefore, to follow me." – Scottish tombstone epitaph_


	4. Chapter 4: Dream of Eternity

Title: Reality's Illusion  
Author: Shadow Rebirth  
Beta Reader: Rukia23  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Violence, death, language, and spoilers.  
Chapter WC: 3,343  
Story WC: 15,385  
First Written: February 21, 2009  
Last Edited: April 29, 2009  
Posted: April 29, 2009  
Summary: [The dead do not walk, but the broken do not die, so where does that leave him?] When a blue eyed man with whisker-like scars and no memory shows up four years after the Yondaime's death Sarutobi doesn't know what to think. [Time travel. No pairings.]

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Reality's Illusion

Chapter 4_  
Dream of Eternity_

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Ichirou wasn't sure _what_ to think about the meeting between Shitsumei and Naruto. The two seemed to be instantly drawn to each other, despite knowing nothing about the other. It took Ichirou a moment to realize that he was holding his breath as he watched them interact and he quickly breathed out.

Sarutobi gave him a curious glance, but Ichirou only shook his head. "You planned this, didn't you?" the Yamanaka asked after a moment.

"Of course," Sarutobi replied with a small smile. "I wanted to see what would happen when they met. Needless to say, I wasn't quite expecting _this_."

Ichirou made a small sound in the back of his throat. His gaze drifted back over to the identical blonds. "What are we going to do?" he asked, though he wasn't entirely sure just what he was referring to.

Sarutobi didn't answer. He continued to stare at Naruto and Shitsumei, a thoughtful look on his face. Ichirou frowned, wondering what was going on in the older shinobi's mind—and if he really wanted to know.

Shitsumei left the ramen shop with Ichirou a half an hour later. Though his face was currently hidden beneath his mask, the younger blond had a small, content smile on his face, something which was completely unheard of for him. His eyes were lighter than Ichirou had ever seen them and he seemed to almost glide over the ground.

"You seem pretty happy," Ichirou ventured after a few minutes.

"I suppose," Shitsumei said with a shrug. "That boy…He was the one you mentioned earlier, wasn't he? The boy who's connected to the Yondaime Hokage?"

"…Yes?"

"Hmm…" Shitsumei's pace slowed down a bit. "He's…interesting. Like—Like…

"Like what?" Ichirou asked curiously.

Shitsumei shrugged again. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "He's like a sun, in a way. His presence is blinding and eclipses everything else around us."

Ichirou blinked slowly. "…That doesn't make any sense."

The masked man didn't reply. He was staring at the ground now, lost in thought. Ichirou found himself staring at the mask on Shitsumei's face, tracing the blue designs with his gaze. It was surprisingly fitting, he thought, though he wasn't sure why.

"No, he's a whirlpool," Shitsumei said suddenly. Snapping out of his thoughts, Ichirou sent Shitsumei an inquiring glance, but the blond was still focused on the ground. "He will draw everything around him to him, regardless of how hard they struggle. One day he'll be the storm that will shape the world."

All of Ichirou's muscles seized up for a moment, as though an icy hand had gripped his heart. It took him a second to realize that he wasn't breathing and as soon as he did he took in a half-choked gasp of air.

"You—you sound so sure about that," he managed to force out after second. "Why?"

Shitsumei blinked and glanced up, broken from whatever pseudo-trance he'd been in. He shrugged. "He has a lot of…energy."

"You mean chakra?"

"No. _Energy_. He—He..." Shitsumei broke off, struggling to find the word he was looking for. For a moment Ichirou was strongly reminded of his niece and the similar struggle she'd had when she'd first met Shitsumei. "He's _alive_."

"…That doesn't make any sense."

Shitsumei just stared at him motionlessly and Ichirou was forced to awkwardly look away after only a few seconds. The younger blond's gaze was always hard to meet; it was intense and vacant simultaneously, leaving the onlooker feeling dazed, as though they'd looked into the sun for too long. At the same time however, one couldn't _not_ look at Shitsumei. Though he didn't seem to notice it, he drew attention to himself wherever he went. People were just instantly drawn to him, like—like—

…Like a whirlpool.

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Ichirou and Shitsumei didn't talk much for the rest of the day, even after they'd returned home. Not that they ever talked much anyway, but Shitsumei had become much more solemn than usual. It was as though Naruto was some sort of a drug to him; while meeting the boy he'd become filled with energy and _life_, but soon afterwards had crashed and once again become a mere husk of a person.

Honestly, it annoyed Ichirou. While intriguing, Shitsumei was also incredibly frustrating. Living with him wasn't exactly eventfully, but felt like a rollercoaster ride regardless. Ichirou was sure he was going to have a stroke from all this stress one day.

By the time night had fallen and Ichirou had just finished washing his dinner dishes, he suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Shitsumei for several hours. Drying his hands on a dish towel while frowning, he focused his senses for a moment so that he could home in on Shitsumei's chakra signature. To his surprise he found that the younger man was sitting up on the roof. Ichirou's frown deepened; what was he doing outside?

Ichirou quietly unlatched the kitchen window and pulled it open. It took him only a few seconds and a small amount of chakra to slip outside and dart up the wall. In no time at all he'd landed lightly beside his housemate.

Shitsumei was sitting in the center of the roof with one knee pulled up to his chest. An arm was slung casually across the knee so that his hand dangled before him. As was usual when he was sitting, he was motionless and unblinking while staring up at the night sky.

Hesitant, Ichirou stayed in his crouched position on the roof. Now more than ever, Shitsumei looked like some sort of ethereal being. For perhaps the hundredth time since he'd first met the odd, blue eyed man, Ichirou had the feeling that he just didn't belong here, among them.

"The stars look so lonely, don't you think?" Shitsumei abruptly asked. His voice didn't cut through the silent night air like one would expect, but instead threaded its way through it like a whisper in the wind.

Ichirou had to shoot a hand out to balance himself on the roof before he toppled over. He momentarily scowled at himself, annoyed by how easily Shitsumei was able to catch him—and, indeed, _anyone_—off guard.

"Lonely?" Ichirou repeated. "What…What do you mean?" He glanced up at the sky, where, thanks to the lack of clouds that night, thousands of shining points of light beamed down on them.

Shitsumei tilted his head to the side minutely, considering the question. "They look lonely and cold," he repeated. "They get to be up there, watching everything, but they're never a part of it. They see everything, but _are_ nothing. They're separate. Alone."

A shiver ran down Ichirou's spine, though for the life of him he wasn't sure why.

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Shitsumei didn't particularly care how long he'd been sitting outside, the cold wind didn't bother him and his muscles never cramped up from staying in one position for so long. He had no reason to move, no reason to stop staring up at the stars that had managed to catch his attention. It had been a while since Ichirou had gone back inside he knew, and even if he wasn't aware of just how long it'd been, he was content to stay where he was for the time being.

Eventually Shitsumei noticed two new chakra signatures on the other side of the house, but he paid them no mind. No doubt they were more ANBU, new additions to the two who were already watching him from the trees in the backyard. To the blond's confusion, however, the newcomers didn't join them outside, but instead slipped into the house. Shitsumei turned to glance down at the house, his curiosity caught.

What were the ANBU doing?

Silently, Shitsumei stood and trotted over to the edge of the roof. Channeling a bit of chakra into his fingers so that he'd stick, he gripped the edge of the roof and swung into the window below. He made no sound as he landed on all fours on the hardwood floor of the upstairs hallway.

(_He hissed in pain as his feet slammed into the ground. One of his legs gave out beneath him, unable to support his weight any longer; he feared that it might be shattered. He pushed himself back up regardless, determined to press on_)

The newcomers were almost directly below him, in the living room. Shitsumei ghosted down the stairs, sticking to shadows to avoid being seen. The newcomers hadn't noticed him yet, but he hadn't expected them to; the ANBU never seemed to, unless they were specifically told to. They were standing at the entrance to the hallway where Ichirou's room was, glancing about with sharp eyes that foretold professional experience.

Against his will, a tug pulled at the corner of Shitsumei's mouth. These men…weren't ANBU. They wore no masks and though they did have hitai-ate, the silver plates had strange, rock-like designs on them with a scratch through them. On top of that, Shitsumei could tell from a single glance that they had hostile intent.

Curious and confused, Shitsumei inched forward until he was standing behind one of the shinobi. "Who are you?" he asked.

(_Who are you? His was voice slurred and his eyes glassy, clearly indicating delirium. The other man just sighed and slung one of his limp arms over his shoulder while ignoring his loud protests_)

Instantaneously the man tensed up and whirled around, slashing out with a kunai. Shitsumei didn't even blink at the metal blade that sliced deeply into the flesh of his cheek—after all, the cut was gone before it could even start to bleed.

The intruding shinobi hesitated for a brief moment, as though confused as to how he'd missed. It was all the time Shitsumei needed for his hand to snap out and grasp the man by the neck, unconsciously channeling chakra into his arm as he did so to augment his muscles. At the same time, however, the second shinobi struck from behind, stabbing a kunai into his unprotected shoulder.

Again Shitsumei didn't blink, not even registering the pain. With his free hand he reached back and pulled the short blade from his flesh. It fell to the floor with a quiet clatter, spending drops of blood splattering across the wood. The shinobi snarled in wordless anger, though Shitsumei could clearly see fear in his eyes. He was like a wild animal: Panicked but determined.

In only a second, the shinobi ran through a series of hand seals. Shitsumei's skin prickled at the feeling of building energy and in a flash he was gone from his spot and had reappeared behind the shinobi. He motioned to swiftly chop the man's neck, but the man slipped beneath his attack and began to counterattack with a blow to Shitsumei's solar plexus. The blond completely ignored the blow in favor of grabbing the man's face in one lightning fast motion.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Shitsumei began to channel chakra through his fingertips. Instantly the man started to scream while thrashing violently in his grip. Shitsumei watched curiously as the skin that he was touching began to blister and peel away. It took a few minutes for the man to finally go limp. Shitsumei knew without having to check that he was still alive—just unconscious—and dropped him to the floor.

"What the fuck?!"

Shitsumei glanced up to find Ichirou standing in the hallway, staring flabbergasted at the scene before him. He was spluttering, but seemed to be unable to come up with anything to say. His gaze seemed to be glued to Shitsumei's arm in particular and the younger blond glanced down to find that he was still holding onto the first shinobi by the neck. He was surprised to see multiple kunai and shuriken sticking out of his arm, where the man had apparently been stabbing him repeatedly in an attempt to get out of his grip.

"Monster! Monster!" the man sobbed hysterically. He'd given up on struggling now, but the terror certainly hadn't left his eyes.

(_He gripped his head tightly while screaming wordlessly. Even as he tried to hold it at bay the red chakra just kept coming and coming, washing over him in wave after wave of burning pain—_)

Abruptly Shitsumei let go of the man. He fell to the floor in an ungracious heap and immediately tried to crawl away from the silent blond. He didn't get more than a few feet however before Ichirou appeared by his side and knocked him out with a swift blow to the temple.

Ichirou glanced up at Shitsumei from his crouched position, but made no move to get up. His lips were thinned tightly and he looked like he wasn't sure whether to start demanding answers or just gape at him.

Shitsumei glanced over the two unconscious intruders with a disinterested air. "They attacked," he said in reply to the unasked question. "They are…not from Konoha, yes?"

"Yeah…" Ichirou said slowly, casting a fleeting look at their scratched hitai-ate. He sighed deeply. "Sorry about this, Shitsumei; they were probably after me."

The blue eyed man cocked his head to the side curiously. "Why?"

Ichirou smiled wearily. "I made a lot of enemies in the last war," he replied. "From the looks of it, these two are from Iwagakure originally, but are missing-nin now. They probably had some sort of a grudge against me and decided to try to get revenge now that they have no ties to their village. Of course, they could also always be loyal shinobi who were labeled as missing-nin solely for the sake of this assassination mission. "

"It's not the first time that this has happened."

A small chuckle slipped out between Ichirou's lips. "No, it's not," he said. "I…When I was younger, I was a very bitter man. And quite arrogant too. Coupled together, well…A lot has changed since then. Anyway, we should probably call the ANBU now; they'll be able to take care of the cleanup. Though I do have to wonder how these two slipped through their guard in the first place. Either they were lazy or these two were a lot more skilled than they appear…"

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"I don't like this."

Sarutobi resisted the prevalent urge to rub his temple. "Yes, I realize that, Koharu," he said forcefully. He was beginning to wish that he was anywhere else at the moment, but this was an issue that _had_ to be taken care of.

The Sandaime Hokage was seated a table with Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura, his old teammates. They were two of the people that he trusted the most, even if they didn't always see eye to eye.

"You can't say that this boy isn't highly suspicious," Homura said in a hoarse voice.

"Of course not," Sarutobi said patiently. "Everything about Shitsumei is odd and suspicious, but that doesn't change the circumstances. And, as I've said before, we _have_ already verified that he's lost his memory."

"That means little," Koharu replied. "It could be a jutsu designed to wipe his memory for a set period of time so that he can get into the village without suspicion."

"All Shitsumei's done since arriving is _draw_ suspicion and attention. Would it not be better for a potential assassin or spy to be someone who wouldn't be noticed easily?"

"Not if the point is to get you interested in said person so that they can get closer to you," Koharu retorted. "Don't forget, Hiruzen, that you're not just a shinobi—you're also our Hokage. We cannot afford to place you in danger, especially not just to satisfy your own curiosity."

"I am the Hokage for a reason, Koharu," Sarutobi said sharply. "I am hardly helpless and I most certainly do not let my guard down. The danger that Shitsumei presents certainly is a valid issue, _however_ I believe that the opportunity that we have in him is much more important."

"But to use him as a shinobi?" Homura interjected. "He could so easily turn traitor on us."

Sarutobi nodded, not even attempting to deny it. "Yes, but so could every other shinobi in Konoha," he responded. "Considering the skill we've witnessed from him so far, it'd be an utter waste not to use his abilities to Konoha's advantage.

Koharu and Homura grudgingly nodded, but didn't look like they were ready to concede the argument quite yet.

"We don't even know what his skill level is yet though," Koharu pointed out.

"Then we'll test him."

"A spar?" Homura suggested.

The Sandaime considered the option for a moment before shaking his head. "To risky," he replied. "From what Yamanka Ichirou has said, Shitsumei works mainly on autopilot. We don't know if he'd be able to hold himself back in a spar. No, a simple mission might be better. Perhaps one to flush out some bandits?"

"I don't like this," Koharu said for what Sarutobi was sure what the tenth time.

"I know," he patiently answered. "But it's the best option at the moment. And of course, I'll send one of our more capable shinobi as his overseer. Perhaps an ANBU…" Slowly a smile spread over his face. "Actually, I believe I know the perfect shinobi for the job."

"I don't like this," Koharu repeated sullenly. Homura grunted in wordless agreement.

Sarutobi just shrugged. "For the better of Konoha, no?"

"Be careful," Koharu quipped, "You're starting to sound like Danzou."

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Kakashi was starting to wonder if the heavens were conspiring against him. Sure, Shitsumei was an alright guy—and certainly interesting—but…Once already he'd spent several days traveling with him and he had no desire to repeat the experience.

But, of course, the Hokage didn't care about such things, so Kakashi was once again stuck with Shitsumei, this time to "secretly" judge what his level of skill was. Kakashi had no doubt that Shitsumei knew exactly why they were there. He also had no doubt that the older shinobi couldn't care less what they all thought of him.

It was the silence that got to Kakashi the most though as he leapt through the trees with the strange man. Sure, he was used to traveling in silence, but with Shitsumei it was different. He always felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for something. What that "something" was he had no idea, but such knowledge—and frustration—didn't chase the sensation away.

"We've found out about those two shinobi who attacked," Kakashi finally just, just to break that silence.

Shitsumei did nothing to show that he was listening, but Kakashi had no doubt in his mind that he was. The young ANBU cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing.

"They were in fact missing-nin; brothers who defected from Iwagakure together about two years ago," he said. "Uh, our Intel Department is working on getting more info out of them right now, but so far they've found that they wanted revenge on Ichirou-san because he apparently killed their squad during the war…Honestly, though, it sounds to me like there's a bit more than that to the story, since they went so far as to sneak into an enemy shinobi village just to try to kill him." He hesitated for a moment. "…They were Jounin, you know."

"And that's why you're all so curious," Shitsumei said abruptly and Kakashi barely managed to keep from stumbling in surprise. He cast a sidelong glance at Shitsumei and saw that the blond had a small, teasing smile on his face.

Kakashi honestly wasn't sure how to react to that. He'd never seen Shitsumei show any kind of emotion before, let alone _smile_. Granted, he hadn't seen him at all since he'd first brought him to Konohagakure some months ago, but the contrast still stuck out with startling clarity in his mind.

"Er, yeah," Kakashi answered with a cough. "I guess that's true. We know nothing about you, ya know?"

The smile faded back into Shitsumei's usual stoic expression. "Neither do I," he muttered, sounding surprisingly melancholy. "Neither do I…"

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Hitai-ate – Forehead protector  
Iwagakure – Hidden Stone

A/N: And thus the plot starts. Next chapter will hopefully come out a lot sooner; I've had a lot of different crap going on recently. Also, for this chapter, don't forget that Kakashi is around 18 at this time, so his personality is a little different than in canon. Well, right now at least.

Just as a side note, I use "hitai-ate" instead of "forehead protector" because the English term just feels so awkward to me. As such that's one of the few items that I call by its Japanese name instead of English. (Like "shuriken" instead of "throwing stars")

Oh, and a few people asked me where I got the quote (the Scottish tombstone epitaph) from. I actually found it in a psychology textbook, so I don't know where it's originally from. It's interesting to know that several people have seen it on tombstones though.

Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter! And especially thanks to MegaB, for the errors that you pointed out.

--S.R.

_"I slept for far too long and when I woke, the world was upside down...  
And I was destined for hell, because I simply chose to disbelieve in heaven.  
Perhaps I was just still asleep, somewhere out there, many years ago?  
I entered a dream from which there was no waking." – Vitaly S. Alexius_


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